(courtesy Pan Macmillan Australia)
“Cosy” is one those words that suggests contentment, peace, of being right with the world and nothing terrible coming to trouble those wrapped happily in its blissful cocoon.
And while all of that is true, it doesn’t fully describe what happens in the delightfully titled sub-genre of “cosy fantasy” which suggests all of the characters spend their days sipping tea, reading books and happily chatting with their friends.
Lovely pursuits all, and good for the soul, and it’s certainly one that has paid major wellbeing dividends for the mage of all mages, Arcandor Kianthe and her ex-Queendom guard to the monarch, Reyna who have set up a shop that sells tea and books and which has given the kind of supportive community of which the previous lone wolf souls could only dream.
But while the glowingly wonderful sapphic romance between seriously militarily capable Reyna and the far more jocular, quip-loving Kianthe gives A Pirate’s Life for Tea by Rebecca Thorne (it follows Can’t Spell Treason Without Tea, the first entry in the Tomes & Tea series) some seriously cosy vibes, that doesn’t mean all is well in the world they inhabit.
Because while love might be love and everything the heart can desire, it has to, alas and alack, make room for Diarn Alorn, the avaricious authoritarianism of the ruler of the lands surrounding the mighty Nacean River in the western kingdom of Shepara who has bought all the infrastructure and means of producing goods and food in the region, enriching himself and plunging those he rules into poverty and starvation.
[Reyna] rather loved her quiet life as a tea maker in the small, icy town of Tawney. Loved her friends and their daily drama. Loved the cozy [sic] barn-turned-bookstore she’d created with her partner, Kianthe, and the warmth that filled it. Entire days were spent watching the clouds pass. Reyna’s biggest concern was how well her baby griffon would take to training that day. Accomplishments came in the form of a quiet kiss or a particularly tasty blend of tea.
But against all odds, Reyna had a certain nostalgia for her old job. Guarding a notoriously vicious queen. Stalking assassins through crowded ballrooms. Hunting down conspirators in back alleys. besting the most skilled swordsmen in the Queendom in private duels.
Again, it wasn’t often.
But sometimes.
Enter a pirate named Serina who is channelling her inner Robin Hood, and not her inner agrarian worker because she royally stinks at farming, and stealing Diarn Alorn’s food and re-distributing it to the people on the riverbanks who love Serina with a folkloric intensity that defies any official censure of her actions.
She is a hero to the masses who know her, a thorn in the side to Alorn and an object of emotional tangling longing for former bestie, Bobbie, a constable in the Diarn’s forces who is secretly in love with Serina, something obvious to anyone around her but a mystery to the constable herself.
Despite the almighty adult fracturing between them, the close links between the two remain, and so, when Kianthe and Reyna arrive in Shepara to find three stolen dragon eggs, the recovery of which will stop the local dragons of their new hometown Tawney, from torching the place, they walk straight into not just some egregious actions by a local rules who must be stopped, but a brewing struggle between the heads and hearts of Bobbie and Serina who are clearly meant for each other.
If you haven’t twigged yet, A Pirate’s Life for Tea, and yes, the entire Tomes & Tea series, is very queer, and quite apart from a fun story and wholly engaging characters, you have to love the tongue-in-cheek dedication at the start of the book which reflects the mischievous sense of humour of the author:
To the people who gave me one-star reviews because the first book “had lesbians.” I doubled the lesbians in this one. Just for you.
(courtesy Pan Macmillan Australia)
That fun-filled gloriously pointed dedication is your first sign that though there are some very serious narrative elements at play, A Pirate’s Life for Tea mourn that earns its cosy fantasy designation.
It is full to the often magical brim with quips and jokes, with Kianthe in particular loving a good “Dad Joke”, but it is also deliciously quirky and idiosyncratic with Bobbie dealing with the huge stress of her thankless job as a constable by crocheting animals and hats and jumpers and scarves.
Not the best examples of their craft admittedly but filled with lots of love and heart, and attracting the attention of Kianthe who, despite being the most powerful magical figure in the land, is more than happy to wisecrack with the best of them.
She is a frothy, joyous delight, a whimsical if magically robust yin to Reyna’s far more serious yang, coming in to not only lend some serious support when needed, her mastery of elements like ground and water in serious demand as A Pirate’s Life for Tea gets going, but to gag her way through proceedings, adding some much needed lightness and brightness to a narrative which focuses on the power of fighting back against entrenched and willfully cruel authoritarian power.
Kianthe tossed an arm over Reyna’s shoulders. Reyna pressed against her, warmth spreading in her own chest, and they strolled out of the captain’s quarters.
While A Pirate’s Life for Tea doesn’t quite flow as smoothly as the river at the heart of its story, with some narrative jumps and leaps that don’t quite make sense at first, it is by and large one of those books which is good for the soul, and excellent for anyone who values the power of a community of loveable characters working hard for justice, truth and each other’s and the community’s best interests.
In an age where fascistic cruelty seems to be the order of the day, and unspeakable evil is routinely meted out to people when kindness would be far more beneficial and powerful, A Pirate’s Life for Tea is the antidote we need.
Not simply because it prioritises love and joy and hope above all else, but because it calls on anyone witnessing the horrors of a broken, power-hungry age to do something, anything; standing by is not a viable option and A Pirate’s Life for Tea makes that abundantly clear again and again to resoundingly motivating effect.
Sporting some serious The Princess Bride vibes (for fun, these should be left to actually reading the book), A Pirate’s Life for Tea is a perfect mix of the serious and the silly, of fury and love, and hopefulness and empowering action, and it comes with all the cosiness and humour a beleaguered reader might need, offering up not simply a call to world-changing action but a headily funny sense of escapism and diversion, reminding us that even at the very worst of times, some of the very best things about us are needed more than ever.